


Holiday

by tea_petty



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Family, Fluff and Smut, Holidays, M/M, Quiet Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:29:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26574541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_petty/pseuds/tea_petty
Summary: Mattie brings his boyfriend home for the holidays.
Relationships: Canada (Hetalia)/Reader
Kudos: 15





	Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-pettiest

A sweat sprung at the palm of his hands, exacerbating the bite of the chill outside. 

Winters in Canada could be formidable, something Matthew had warned him about when they’d been packing for the holiday break. Still, though, it wasn’t the towering snowdrifts or the howling wind that seemed to root him to his boyfriend’s front stoop. 

“We should get in,” Matthew hinted. “It’s chilly, and there’s a blizzard headed this way.”

He nodded. 

“Yeah, for sure.”

He still didn’t go anywhere. 

Matthew waited, always the patient one but after a few minutes, they were still outside, his cheeks and nose red and wind-nipped.

“Or, we could totally just hang out here.”

Matthew sent his boyfriend a meaningful look. The other man was staring at Mattie’s childhood home like it was a monolith.

“Yeah, right.”

His boyfriend senses were tingling; Matthew figured they’d be out there all night unless he did something to help coax the process along. 

“Here,” Matthew took the other man’s hand, and stepped up to the door, knocking heartily.

“Wait! I’m not-“

That’s all he had time to say; there was a beat of silence, the sound of excited voices on the other side, and then heavy footsteps that only got heavier as they neared the door. It opened, exposing the wreath to the dusting of snow coming down, and two blonde men greeted them, grinning ear to ear.

“Hello!”

“ _Bonjour_! Welcome!”

Immediate heat fought through the blizzard especially to rise in his cheeks. It was as he had just been about to tell Mattie; the holidays were an intimate occasion and he’d never met them before. All of that stayed in his head, the bull in a china shop freshly stocked with his skittish thoughts.

The two men at the door were smiling, looking at them expectantly. 

After a moment, Matthew joined them in that and he realized that they were expecting an answer from him.

His mouth was dry, made worse by the thin, winter air.

“Oh, uh, hi,” he swallowed nervously, feeling the raw rasp of his throat. “Thank you so much for inviting me this year.”

Matthew’s dad – the one with the long hair and the French accent, which must’ve made him his _papa_ Francis, actually – smiled broader. 

“Of course, now come in! Let’s get you two out of the cold.” 

Both men had stepped out of the doorway, their hands waving Matthew and his boyfriend in. 

“Are you hungry?” Francis asked. 

“Oh! Um-“

From his other side, Mattie’s other dad – Arthur? – was reaching over to take his and Matthew’s bags, with a reassuring smile. Matthew mentioned this too; Arthur was more of the stickler for order, while Francis preferred to entertain.

“Don’t worry, I was the one who did the cooking this evening, so you can be honest.” Francis shot them both a wink and as he disappeared into the kitchen, Arthur followed him, a few paces behind and now empty-handed, ready to start an argument about the slight to his cooking skills.

“ _Now just wait a moment_ -!”

He and Mattie stood there, still sort of in the foyer. He looked around; the walls were a warm yellow, and from where they standing, he could make out a fireplace, with a row of pictures on the mantle. He made a mental note to get Mattie to show him those later.

The aforementioned boyfriend took the other man’s quiet as a continued symptom of his frazzled nerves, and while this wasn’t exactly untrue, it probably appeared worse than what it really was. That didn’t mean he didn’t want the soft kiss such an assumption came with though, as delivered by Mattie to his temple.

“They’ll love you,” he smiled; when he did that, he looked like a younger, softer Francis. “Just you watch.”

Past the jitters of meeting the parents for the first time, he was just…amazed. Shellshocked maybe, by the kindness Matthew’s dads had shown right off the bat. Of course, he supposed he shouldn’t have been too shocked – his boyfriend could’ve only grown up to be so kind after being raised in a house that fostered that sort of warmth and compassion, right?

He couldn’t help but be enamored by it none the less; how different it was from his own house, where he would’ve skulked, and struggled to stay afloat during passive-aggressive dinner conversation with the same quiet of a shadow.

For a moment, he’d forgotten about his earlier nerves – the big, flashing, neon sign that seemed to hang over his head whenever he visited home had melted away into quiet, peaceful normalcy. Who would stare and whisper and make pointed remarks about children or sin or the 'sacrament of marriage' (which looked rather sacred the way Arthur and Francis did it, mind you) when Mattie had two dads? Imagine that – two dads! He’d never lived in a house where the relationship he was to aspire to looked like his. 

The thought made his chest warm and stomach flip; did he know how to be in a place so whole and healthy?

“How do you know?”

Matthew wrapped his arms around him; gloriously tempered from years of hockey.

“I know because _I_ love you.”

The man in his arms blushed, his skin itching under his boyfriend’s adoration. He wanted to trust those words more than anything.

“Boys, are you coming? Dinner’s on the table.”

Arthur poked his head out from the kitchen, and then suddenly, Matthew’s arms were tight and too warm around him. He squirmed, shifting under Arthur’s gaze, the way his body pulled taut at the attention of an adult when he was involved in a little PDA ingrained into his bones.

The other shoe never dropped though; Arthur merely returned to the kitchen, presumably to help Francis finish setting the table. 

Matthew let go of his boyfriend and found his hand, towing him gently towards the kitchen.

“Come on, let’s eat. Papa’s a great cook.”

The dining room turned out to be straight through the kitchen, and so he got a nice tour of the aromatic scents of spices and a well-prepared homecooked meal before they arrived to take their seats at the dinner table.

“Please, sit, relax, you two must be tired after the end of the semester.”

Francis and Arthur were sitting on one side of the table, across from two immaculate sets across from them. Two plates, silverware that practically sparkled, and wine glasses just waiting for a taste of the ’17 Malbec on the table.

They took their seats, and he shifted a little, feeling too shabby for the cozy, kept look of their dining room. Now that they were seated and looking at the spread on the table, he could see what they were actually having for dinner, and though his nose had alluded to this when in the kitchen, he was pleased to see that it wasn’t in fact false hope. His eyebrows lifted in surprise – something that didn’t go unnoticed by Arthur.

“Matthew told us that this was a holiday favorite of yours, so we decided to make it.”

He looked up, meeting the older man’s eyes. His brow was furrowed in a look of begrudging kindness, a man who seldom let himself be soft for others, choosing such an occasion to assume such an appearance.

“We hope you like it,” Arthur offered kindly. “We want you to feel at home while you’re here.”

He didn’t know what to say. A pang went through his chest and his throat tightened.

“That’s- “ He could feel his voice breaking off. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

From his side, he felt Matthew reach over and give his hand an encouraging squeeze. The touch sent warmth radiating through his body; he never felt more safe or lucky than in that room right then.

“Of course.”

There was a respectful quiet that parsed out the acknowledgment of his presence at that their table that year before the sound of cutlery scraping against the dishes rang in a happier, more festive time.

The food was incredible; he made sure to tell them after the first bite.

“That’s how you know Arthur kept out of the kitchen like I _told_ him to,” Francis took a sip of his wine and shot his husband a teasing side glance.

“Oh, please, tomorrow I’ll cook, and then you’ll have to eat your words.”

“Better that than your food.”

He and Matthew laughed. With each moment he spent in this home, his earlier worries seemed to slip away, carried by the howling winds from the blizzard outside. 

During the occasional quiet moment, Matthew would catch his eye and he would smile, without weight, without reservation. He felt lighter than he had in years, and the man just beside him complimented that, with a smile that was pure sunshine.

-

He padded into Mattie’s room, bare feet cold against the hardwood floor. Knowing his boyfriend, he had a pile of warm, fleecy blankets stacked on his bed, just waiting for them. The room was already dark, though Matthew wasn’t asleep yet. 

Instead, he was sitting cross-legged, peering outside his window through the snowflakes frosting around the edges, out into the blizzard outside. 

Snow was falling like giant cotton balls and sticking just as persistently. For a moment, he just paused and watched his boyfriend marvel at the snow; he liked seeing Matthew liked this; inspired, happy. A fierce warmth glowed in his chest that would’ve rivaled the plummeting temperatures outside.

He crossed the room, ready to curl up with his Matthew for the night but got sidetracked on the way. While Mattie’s eyes were trained on the bits of snow and ice outside, he was more enthralled by the bits of Matthew he found in the room around him; postcards from family trips to England and France, hockey trophies from the years past, and a whole collection of Weezer CDs.

His fingers trailed over the tops of the cases, pausing to pull out one with _Pinkerton_ on its spine. 

The cover reminded him of Mattie’s view at the window, and he couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.

“I see you’ve found my CD collection.”

He looked up and saw that Matthew wasn’t looking out the window anymore, but was instead, watching him. His cheeks warmed at the thought of having been able to capture his boyfriend’s attention from the view outside.

He held the CD up to Matthew, showing him which one.

“So are we breaking the ol’ CD player out?”

Matthew raised an eyebrow, his lips turning into a lopsided grin.

“You know, I wasn’t planning on it, but Pinkerton _was_ their best album.” 

Matthew’s eyes remained on the other man as he flipped the case around and looked at the back for the song titles; _Devotion, Falling for You, Tired of Sex…_

“Cute.”

“Yeah, it is,” Matthew agreed, though he was still looking at the other man, not the CD.

He fiddled with the CD case a little more, fingers feeling at the serrated edges on the odd side of the case. It slipped from the precarious hold of his fingers and he bent over at once to pick it up. Matthew was watching him through this too.

They’d been in the room for several minutes now, and still, he hadn’t gone to the bed. Matthew felt his impatience burn away into something else in him, stirrings at his crotch indicating that maybe it wasn’t just the pleasure of the other man’s company that he was craving tonight.

“Come over here,” Matthew said, his voice soft in the dark.

His boyfriend looked over, surprised at the request. He came over, the CD still in hand; he hadn’t thought to put it down.

He went over to the bed and perched at the edge of it. He held it out to Matthew in offering.

“I got this when I was like, thirteen.”

A beat of silence fell between them.

“ _What_?”

They both erupted into a fit of quiet laughter, shoulders shaking, bodies bowed near each other.

“It’s true; me and this kid who lived down the block, Ian, used to walk to school together. He was the one who got me into Weezer.”

“So he gave you the CD.”

“Not exactly.”

Matthew looked thoughtful now, “I asked him if I could borrow it and he told me to ‘get bent’.”

His boyfriend was staring at him, the little gears in his head turning as he struggled to puzzle together how Matthew had ended up with the CD.

“So…?”

“So I…borrowed it anyway.”

They were watching each other; Matthew’s brow was lifted as he waited for his boyfriend’s reaction. His face was unreadable. 

“Mattie…”

“Hm?”

“Darling, sweetheart…googlybear – that’s _stealing_.” He put his hands at Matthew’s so they were encasing his as he held the CD, stroking softly.

“It’s not though – I was going to return it once I was done listening to it, I swear.”

“What happened?”

“I-“ Matthew shrugged and gave a crooked little smile that had warmth starbursting in the chest of the other man. “Well, I _still_ listen to it.”

“Still processing all those messy, achy feelings – let me guess, ‘the girl you like doesn’t like you back, and your parents just don’t understand?’” he teased.

Mattie laughed.

“Yeah, something like that.”

The sound of his laughter petered out and then he was looking at the other man, his eyes dropping from the other man’s, down to his lips.

He angled his head towards Mattie, familiar enough with his pre-kiss tells by now to recognize when one was coming. His eyes fluttered shut right as Matthew’s lips brushed his, his firm hands reaching up to catch his face tenderly between them.

His breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening as he forgot about something as trivial as breathing; what was truly important was the man at his mouth and how his fingers grasped at him, thumbs stroking along the flats of his cheeks. The shadows of the snow outsides rained over the walls, illuminated by the blanket of white outside. He opened his eyes for just a moment, just long enough to see how they shifted over Matthew’s face, like porcelain in the cold, winter light.

Then his eyes fell shut again and he parted his lips. Matthew’s head tilted, his nose pressing up right alongside the other man’s as he fitted his lips against him, stacking them like dominos, tracing his tongue along his bottom lip. The CD fell from – well, whoever was holding it and landed near-soundlessly at the floor.

He gripped Matthew back, his hands finding a hold at those shoulders, before slipping down the man’s back, letting him fit himself more firmly against his boyfriend. 

He could feel Matthew smile against him, could feel the upward curve of his lips, and how it threatened to break their kiss. He had half a mind to tease him about it, to pull back and trace his fingers across it – he had such nice lips, full and soft and perfect for such activities like this.

He was quite certain though, that breaking the kiss, when his body was as _invested_ as it was now, might kill him. He forged ahead, pushing against Mattie so that there wasn’t even an iota of space between them, so that Matthew wore him like a second skin and that they were so melded together, there was no Mattie without him or vice versa.

Matthew let the other man push until they were careening back into the pillows at the head of the bed. 

Their kiss broke as the fall forced breath from their lungs and he took this opportunity to tuck a stray curl behind Matthew’s ear.

“Hey.”

Matthew laughed softly, leaning into the other man’s touch.

“Hey yourself.”

“I like you.”

It sounded like a prayer, the way he buried the words against his lover’s skin.

There was that tell again; Matthew’s eyes dropped to the other man’s lips, and then he was surging up to throw his arms around his neck, bringing him once again into an enthusiastic kiss. Matthew luxuriated in the feel of his lover’s weight on his chest; it made him feel whole. 

Matthew separated from him, just enough to rub his nose playfully against the other man’s, before pressing his mouth to his once more.

They kissed for a little while longer, lips pushing, hands grabbing and pulling though the distance between them was already closed. 

They grew accustomed to the nuzzling, pushing feel of the other, as if they were trying to burrow inside the other for safekeeping. That’s why he was surprised when his fingers found a grasp on the fabric of Matthew’s shirt, pulling him closer, and he gave a firm push to the other man’s chest.

He gave his boyfriend a questioning look.

“Lay back,” Matthew whispered, a smile spreading across his face.

He did, easing back into the duvet, staring wide-eyed and expectant at the ceiling as if he were expecting to find cosmos swirling up there. 

He didn’t, but as Matthew shifted, pulling his lover’s cock from his pajama pants and underwear, his hand reaching to stroke up along the other man’s shaft as he took him in his tight, wet mouth, he was awfully close to seeing stars. 

His head back against the bedding, his eyes flew shut, face contorting as he felt Matthew’s mouth on him with the intensity of having his skin flayed so that the other man might lay waste to his nerves directly. Without being able to watch, the sensations seemed heightened; he was acutely aware, not only of Matthew’s tongue at his cock, but at the press of his fingers at his thighs.

Matthew drew his lover’s cock slowly out of his mouth, pausing to place a soft kiss at the man’s hipbones. His breath caught; where the skin stretched thin over the jut of bone, it was more sensitive. Noticing this, Matthew bit lightly at it, and reveled in how his lover jolted under the contact.

Matthew nuzzled against his partner’s hard cock, which bobbed at the soft push.

“Mm, I had no idea you were so hard.”

The other man kept his eyes shut, now flustered, and teased by the phantom of the feeling of his boyfriend’s mouth on his cock. 

“Neither did I,” he admitted.

He didn’t have to do much to avoid his boyfriend’s inquisitive stare, considering his position. Matthew studied him anyway, feeling lucky just to be able to witness this man, spread before him, the engorged tip of his cock just inches from his mouth as his musky scent curled around him.

Matthew slipped his lover’s cock into his mouth again, his lips tight as he took him in, tongue running along the sensitive underside.

The other man moaned from beneath him, his hands sliding into Matthew’s hair so he could keep his lover anchored to him. When Mattie bobbed his head, his cheeks hollowed to capture the tightest of sensations around the other man’s erection, he cried out again and at once Matthew pulled away.

He shushed him, and for a few moments, the other man felt young, shame welling in his chest like he’d been caught with his hand on the cookie jar – and not with his cock in someone’s mouth.

“My dads are going to hear – we have to keep quiet.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” There was a pause and he bit his lip. “But…I want you, _so_ bad.”

It was exciting to say aloud. While the words had simmered inside of him, reactive and volatile like a pressure bomb, taking the leap from unsaid to said had made him a dauntless man. 

He’d defused the bomb, and perhaps he’d even get a good fuck out of it.

Matthew’s face was looming in front of him all of a sudden, the realization of this accompanied by the delightful warmth of his body hovering over the length of his. Beside his head, the mattress divoted where Matthew rested his weight on his hand.

“I guess we should do something about that then.”

He was smiling, a little deviously, though such an expression was still softened by the fact that it was on Matthew’s face.

He sat up, intending to seal their fate with a kiss, but then Mattie was up too, on his feet, yanking his flannel pajama bottoms down. 

This was a natural rhythm for them, though perhaps not one he was used to doing in Matthew’s parents’ house.

Meanwhile, his cock was still out, still shining faintly from Mattie’s saliva.

“Where’s the-“

In his dorm room, he’d always kept the lube on the shelf by his bed, only to be tucked away in the case of company. 

“In the drawer.”

He was about to ask which drawer, but then his eyes fell to the little nightstand beside Mattie’s bed. When he pulled the drawer open, sure enough, the bottle was there.

The cap came off and he brought his hand, slicked with the lube along the length of his stiff erection, pumping a few times. Immediately, he felt heat curl at the pit of his stomach, the rasp of his palm at his cock no doubt reaching Matthew’s ears and stirring up a similar sensation.

Matthew was standing before the bed bent over, the duvet dimpling where his hands pressed in to hold up his weight. His back curved and ass facing him; one knee was also perched at the bed, while the other leg was standing straight.

He moved to the other man, his cock still in his hands, slicker than before, and pressed the tip against Matthew’s puckered asshole.

“Ready?”

Matthew pushed backward, grinding his ass against his slippery erection.

“Put it _in_.”

A swell of laughter threatened to buzz on the inside of his chest – Mattie could become uncharacteristically bossy in the sack. 

The feeling died almost immediately though once he began to push in a few inches though, the tightness of Matthew clamping down on his cock.

It didn’t matter that he was the one fucking Matthew tonight; he had no control, not when the other man squeezed around him like _that_. He pushed further in, and then his body was covering Matthew’s, his chest against his back, his hands finding the space just outside of where Matthew’s hands were. He groaned, the suffocating heat of the other man stoking his feverish desire.

“ _Fuck_ , Matt.”

His nose was by Matthew’s shoulder, and he nuzzled into it, catching his sharp scent and the dampness at his skin. Mattie had taken his shirt off to be fucked, he realized; my God, he played hockey and it _showed_.

His hips against Mattie’s ass, he waited a few moments, hilted inside the other man, and reached around to grab his hard cock.

Matthew let out a sharp stream of air.

“ _Ah_!-“

He gave Matthew’s cock an experimental pump and the man shuddered underneath him.

“ _Fuck_ – that’s…that’s great, but could you fuck me already?”

That buzzing in his chest caught again as his body caged another giddy laugh inside of him. Mattie must’ve been reeling to be this impatient; he smiled against the other man’s back as he drew out to the tip and snapped his hips forward, hilting inside his lover once more.

Mattie grunted at the starting pace – moderate, steady. 

Occasionally, he would push back to meet the impact of the other man’s hips, and he’d grab Matthew’s cock again to give it a quick pump, making the man falter in his pace, and allowing him to ram into him from behind.

“That was on-“ Matthew gasped as he squeezed his lover’s cock again, “- _purpose_.”

There was the furtive, little shift of Mattie’s body under his breath. 

He kept his eyes on it as he fucked him, trying to catch the stutter of the rhythm to how he worked the man in front of him.

“Yeah, it was.”

The words dissolved on his tongue, not able to survive the fever they were simmering in. Matthew’s fingers tensed, crushing the duvet lightly in his fists.

“It’s so-“

Matthew’s voice cut off, and he felt vicious triumph sear the inside of his chest.

He thrust hard into him.

“It’s so what? Tell me?”

His voice barely came out above a whisper, so he didn’t know how he expected Matthew to answer, what with how he took his cock, and with his own in the other man’s hand. His pace hastened to a breathless gallop and as his body bowed, fatigued by the burst of energy such a feat required, his lips brushed the back of Mattie’s shoulder in a quick kiss.

His hand left Matthew’s cock and grazed upwards along his torso, feeling shakily at the light play of muscle. The slick of their sweat made his hand slip over Matthew’s chest and he scrabbled for a tighter hold, bringing his lover flush against him as he thrust, so he could pump furiously into him.

The friction burning through in him radiated through his body. His skin felt white-hot like an iron poker that had been left sitting in the fire. His stomach flipped, his blood ran hot and cold inside of him. He could recognize Mattie’s come-tells like he could his kiss-tells; he waited carefully for these signs and made sure not to let himself fall to his own sweet release until Mattie had come.

He only had to wait a few moments though, then, at last, he could spill himself.

He loved the feeling of Mattie coming; the deep shudder of the man beneath him, the twitch of his cock in his hand with his own cock hilted in his lover. It was warm and wet inside him – a sensation that carried over into how Mattie felt as he sagged over him, a muggy heat radiating through the thin material of his shirt. 

He buried his face in Mattie’s back and took in a long breath, the scent of his fabric softener mixing with the spice of his sweat. From where he was, he could see some of Matthew’s dark blonde hair dangle in front of the man’s face in soft waves.

He was still watching this when Matthew eased himself down on the mattress. He slipped out of him as he did so, and then he was letting himself lay down beside Mattie, one arm thrown over his sweaty torso. The chill from the windowpane radiated off to them; a welcome return to reality.

Every part of him felt heavy; he thought he might sleep for a thousand years.

Outside the window, the snow was still falling. The dark in the room seemed to give off a ghastly glow of its own. 

It didn’t feel like night time; it felt like pre-dawn or a finely aged twilight. Romance, with substance beneath the lace and frills.

To peer into the future several decades, one need only look into the room across the hall.

In almost perfect parallel, two men lay in each other’s arms, their skin rosy and feverish. The difference here was that they were fully dressed and looked wide-awake. For a little while, neither spoke; the last of what had infiltrated their cozy bedtime routine having died out, leaving two stunned, mortified fathers.

The silence was deafening as they stared, wide-eyed at each other. 

Had the creak of bedsprings really been so loud as to fill such empty silence? 

Arthur couldn’t bring himself to say anything. His skin itched at his face. Their walls were thinner than he’d thought.

“Remember when that was us?” Francis finally asked, his brow quirked, amused as much as he was embarrassed.

Even he wasn’t immune to the parental frictions that came with having his son grow up.

“Oh, I don’t think we were like _that_.” Arthur’s face darkened.

“You’re right,” Francis found his hand, fingers threading familiarly with his as he shifted closer to him. “We were _much_ louder.”

Arthur only had enough time to get the preamble of a laugh out before his husband was catching his mouth in a soft kiss. Earlier awkwardness aside Arthur couldn’t help but feel his chest warm; even after two decades with this man, that remained the same. 

The thought of Matthew having something even remotely like that brought a smile to his lips that threatened the state of their kiss.

Francis could tell what broke it though and took no issue with it. 

He pulled back a few inches, still close enough to count the smattering of freckles at his husband’s cheeks. 

He was peering at Arthur through half-lidded eyes, sleepy and terribly in love. His gaze flicked down to his husband’s lips, and then returned to his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Arthur leaned in, his nose pressing softly to the other man’s.

“Love you more.”


End file.
